


Mother Hen

by RationalistRomantic (Chryses)



Series: Fragments [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, SO, This is generally sad, but this was the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chryses/pseuds/RationalistRomantic
Summary: It was the day before John's deployment, and Sherlock refused to say goodbye.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a stand alone, but can be traced back to part 1 of the series in their present timeline.

On the night before John's deployment, they (mostly Sherlock) hadn't particularly spoken about how to spend their last night together.

 

John - ever the romantic - told Sherlock that he didn't need to plan anything, because anywhere where he is allowed access to be _this_ close to Sherlock is the place he wanted to be. The stars, well, that was just window dressing.

 

"I don't like this." His mate muttered from beside him, just about half a meter away from each other; the distance growing between them already. Somehow John's heart ached even more that there had ever been a times where they weren't touching. God, what an idiot he had been to question something like fate - they could've gotten together much earlier if he had just went along with what he was told and started a relationship as soon as they met. His fingers twitched closer to Sherlock's wrist whilst he eyed him the best he could even when they're on their backs with soft grass pressing from behind (well, probably should've considered that it rained not more than three, maybe four hours ago - oh well).

 

"You don't like a lot of things." Maybe perhaps the normal things that regular people would've liked, you've abhorred. 

 

Sherlock smirked as though he can read the words that remained unsaid, and tilted his head just about a few inches close to John's right shoulder. He doesn't make the first move, however, his wispy curls almost brushed John's skin seeing as he wore a grey tank top today.

 

He rolled his eyes. Oh for god's - Then, within a flash, Sherlock towered over him, his gangly pale arms on either sides of the grass beside John's ears; his eyes glittered with the same mirth that spoke of brilliance, intelligence, and resilience. God he loved this idiot more than his own life.  John smiled up at his partner, and wrapped both of his arms around the pale neck that got Sherlock flopping directly onto his chest. Painful as it was, he couldn't help but indulge in the way that Sherlock snuggled closer onto his clavicle, the smell of earth, jasmine, and bergamot  wafting up his nose. If he was to bury his nose in, he was sure that he would be lost to the scent of Sherlock alone, so he only allowed his chin atop said head.

 

They remained in that position in what felt like forever before Sherlock allowed himself to continue on the conversation.

 

"I don't like  _people_ , and yet, here you are." Sherlock regarded him from the corner of his eyes with so much love that he became acquainted to just recently. God is that tears!?

 

"Shut up," He coughed, and tried to keep his own emotions at bay. At least one of them needed to keep it together. "- you like having me around."

 

His partner smirked, a single tear slipped from one eye down to his cheek. My god, how long had he cried, and pretended that he was okay? John had the strong urge to lick it away, but held himself back in fear of being unable to stop himself from going further. Besides, it wasn't the time for that.

 

Sherlock buried his head back to its original place before he composed a reply,

 

"Having been assigned a perpetual mother hen, I'd reckon anybody would."

 

His lips brushed by his mate's slightly small elphen ears like it was a secret.

 

"And I'm not people?"

 

Sherlock opened his eyes, and there was vulnerability, and sadness that was written in his gaze, other than the intensity of his love.

 

"No," He agreed with a relieved sigh. John's heart fluttered even more if it was even possible. "- you're not."

 

And neither spoke any more after that. They figured that the sound of their own hearts beating together was conversation enough, at least that was what John interpreted. It was enough, he thinks, to pretend that the world stopped at that exact moment.

 

 

-

 

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this mini planned ages ago, but just didn't feel like typing it up. There was actually more content in what I planned, but I figured that the comedy relief (that was initially planned) might break the tension that is growing between the two of them (wouldn't want that), so I decided to shorten it. Anyways, thoughts?


End file.
